


Let's Make a Bet

by mavjade



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, President Sam Seaborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mavjade/pseuds/mavjade
Summary: Josh and Sam made a bet when they were in college. Josh had forgotten, but Sam has not. Is once he's President the best time to follow through?Furious Ainsley. Snarky Josh and Donna. CoS Charlie. Complete preposterousness. But hopefully fun!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my co-mod over at boards.theforce.net. We do a Star Wars fic exchange every year, but the two of us wanted TWW fanfic, so we did our own little exchange. Her request is at the bottom.

“Samuel Seaborn!” yelled Ainsley from the bathroom.

Sam stopped just inside the double doors that lead into their bedroom in the east wing of the White House and looked down at the Christmas orange in his hand. Josh and Charlie had been right, as usual. He contemplated walking back out and seeing if Secret Service would protect him from his own wife.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said as though she could read his thoughts. She had walked out of the bathroom in black pantyhose and a bra. Her hair was still up in a french twist, but her makeup was half off of her face. The wipe she was using to take off her makeup was in her hand. “What were you thinking?”

“Have I told you how lovely you looked tonight?” Sam asked.

Ainsley’s eyes narrowed, “Don’t change the subject.”

“You really did look beautiful. But can I just say that I think I like you better this way.”

“Nope, not gonna work.” She remained very still, something she only did when she was quite upset. Sam walked over to stand directly in front of her.

“Ains…”

“Don’t you ‘Ains’ me. I want to know what you were thinking! How could you believe that this was a good idea?”

Sam sighed, and tossed the orange with cloves stuck in its skin back and forth in his hands. He didn’t think it was a big deal. Clearly, his wife did. “It was just a silly thing.”

“For Josh, maybe. For you and Josh ten years ago, sure! But now? Now it’s a big deal,” Ainsley answered. She didn’t know why he couldn’t see how this could be a problem. He’d been in politics just as long as she had. Sure, he’d had his share of gaffes, but they’d been when he was lower in the ranks, not the President of the United States.

“We were just having some fun, letting the staff know they could be themselves around us.”

“It’s not the staff I’m worried about, it’s the American people. Why can you not see this?”

Sam set the orange down on the table beside him and cupped his hands around his wife’s face, “If it gets out, and that’s a big if, we’ll deal with it. But I think you aren’t giving the American people enough credit. I think they’d like it.”

“Well I guess it’s not really my concern if it does get out, I’m not a White House employee anymore and I’m not your communications director.”

“Exactly,” Sam agreed.

Ansley continued as though Sam hadn’t said anything, "But I want a bet.”

“A bet?”

“Yep. I bet you that it will get out inside a month.”

“Hmm…” Sam pondered for a moment. He started to point out the irony of being upset about one bet by adding another to the mix but decided it was better for him if he kept that to himself. “And just what are we betting?”

“If I win,” Ainsley said, “you have to order the mess to start carrying those cupcakes I love. Oh, and Fresca.”

“You know, we could just ask the chef to get them, right?”

“Yes, but this way you have to ask for it. And I want to get them from the mess when I'm over here.”

“Okay," Sam agreed. He thought he'd get off light if he won, but he wasn't going to pull his punches for his part of the bet. "And if I win, you can’t allow Josie to watch Fox News for a month. Deal?”

“Deal.”

 

~*~*~

_A few hours earlier…_

 

Almost the entire senior staff, and their significant others -for those that had them- were gathered in the Residence. The President had asked the staff to gather for a holiday celebration for the end of their first year in office. He was initially hesitant to hold a gathering as he had flashbacks to President Bartlet having chili night and all of the senior staff being so reluctant to go. They always had fun, but he remembered feeling as though they had no choice but to go. When the President asks, it always seems like an order. But he had been convinced by his wife to issue the invitation anyway. It was important to Sam that they were all friendly, even if he had to be somewhat removed from them all and this was a way to keep that friendly feeling.

Looking around it was practically the who’s who of the former Bartlet administration, with a few new faces scattered around. Some who had been a part of the President Bartlet's tenure were in new roles in this administration, but most played a more informal role than they had, and found themselves as advisors to the President with no particular role. There were also quite a few newer faces, young men, and women who were up and coming in the Democratic Party.

Most everyone was standing around in the informal sitting room, a fire was roaring in the fireplace, a Christmas tree lit with white lights in the corner. There were hors d'oeuvres spread out along a table at the side of the room, and almost everyone was standing around with a drink in their hand, trying to discuss anything but work.

“Mr. President,” Charlie Young said as he walked up to Sam. “We’ve got a problem…”

“Charlie,” Sam interrupted him, “Is it something that is going to lead the U.S. to war in the next 24 hours?”

“Nooo,” Charlie said drawing out the 'o' as though he wasn't entirely certain.

“Is it something that is going to threaten the lives of Americans tonight?”

“No, sir,” he answered confidently.

“Is it something that can wait until tomorrow to deal with?”

“Well, I guess…”

“Then relax, enjoy the company of your wife who is sitting right there,” Sam said pointing at Zoey who was having a conversation with one of the youngest staffers and not paying any attention to her husband or the President. “I knew we shouldn’t have let Josh interview people way back when,” Sam continued. “His workaholic tendencies seem to rub off on people.”

“Hey!” came Josh’s voice from where he was slouched in a high back chair next to the fireplace. “Look at me, I’m the picture of retired from active politics. No two am phone calls, no all-nighters, no having to call another country and try to negotiate peace because someone said something stupid on the internet about them. I get to see my wife for whole hours of the day, it’s a great life.”

Donna, who was standing nearby talking to Ansley snorted, “Don’t let him fool you, he still yells at CSPAN every day.”

“I do not!” Josh whined.

“Josh,” Donna said, “I don’t think there is a single person here who believes you.”

Josh looked around the small room and noticed quite a few people nodding at what his wife had said. “I don’t! I… there are times I agree with what’s going on.”

“Yes, but you yell at the ones who aren’t voting the way you think they should,” the President interjected.

“That’s true,” Donna replied.

“Look at this, I’m being ganged up on. I’m just sitting here minding my own business and the President and my wife gang up on me. How is this my life?”

Donna walked over and sat on the arm of the chair, “You love it, and you know it. But worse… we all know it too.”

~*~*~

After the party had been in full swing for quite a bit of time, and everyone was well on their way to ‘a little drunk,' Sam decided it was time for him to say a few words. He wanted the group to know how much he appreciated them and to acknowledge their hard work.

“Everyone!” He said somewhat loudly. “Can I have your attention?” When people kept talking and didn't quite down, Sam laughed and smiled to himself. It reminded him of a time President Bartlet had them all look down at the seal in the middle of the Oval Office as a reminder of who they were talking to. He'd have to remember to pull that one sometime.

“Hey!” Charlie yelled, “Zip it!”

Everyone quieted down and turned toward the President. “Thanks, Charlie.”

Sam looked around the room trying to make eye contact with everyone present as he spoke. “I just want to thank you all for all for this past year. Some of you for your friendship and council, some of you” —he looked to his wife— “for putting up with me. But all of you for your dedication and hard work. I know things haven’t always been easy. We’ve had to compromise in ways we’d rather not, and we’ve had some failures. But, we’ve also done a lot of good.

“I know for some of you, this is the first time in this type of situation, and you really didn’t know what to expect, but you’re disappointed. Let those of us who have been here before tell you, we’re doing just fine. _You_ are doing just fine. We’re making a difference, and we’ll continue to do so for the next three years. Well, hopefully, seven. Just keep doing your best, keep reminding yourself that you are making a difference. I know that’s hard to see sometimes, especially when you’ve been awake for days on end, but to the people, you _are_ making a difference.”

As he was talking, Sam made his way over to where Josh had been standing. “Some of us” —Sam placed his hand on Josh’s shoulder— “have been in this business a long time. We know what you are going through, we know what you are giving up to be here. Please don’t ever think for a second that I don’t appreciate it. So thank you.

“But before you all sigh in relief that you can leave now, I have one more piece of business.”

“Oh no,” Charlie said. “Sir, I don’t know what’s about to happen, but do you think it’s wise?”

Everyone chuckled. Sam and Charlie had a great relationship. They would pick on each other and crack jokes, when it was appropriate. When they weren’t doing so, the staff all knew that something was going on and it was time to be serious.

Sam smirked, but didn’t address Charlie’s objection. “Josh and I met while debating the merits of capital punishment at the Adam’s Cup debate competition when we were in college. We didn't really become friends then, but from there we kept running into each other. By the time we were both interns on the Hill, it was clear we had similar life goals in mind. We made a bet…”

“Mr. President…” Josh tried to interrupt.

“A bet is a bet Josh,” Sam replied as he started to unbutton his shirt. “You have to understand that we were young and pretty stupid when this bet was made, but I follow through with things. That’s what I do.”

As he took off his dress shirt, it fully revealed the shirt he was wearing underneath. “Our bet was that if one of us ever made it to this office, we’d wear this shirt. I’m not entirely certain I remember why…”

People were openly laughing at the President of the United States who was grinning ear to ear, standing beside his best friend in an ‘I’m with stupid’ tee shirt.

“Don’t look at me,” Josh said, “I only remembered when you started talking about a bet. But it seems like something we’d think was funny when we’d had a little too much to drink.”

“And here I thought we were going to get a Presidential strip tease,” murmured one of the female staffers.

“Oh yeah,” said someone else.

“That would have been quite the Christmas present.”

Charlie did his best to give the women a look to get them to stop talking as their voices were carrying more than they apparently thought, but they were not looking in his direction. He picked up an orange that was sitting in a bowl beside him and threw it at the arm of the closest of the group.

“He may be old but— ow!” The staffer turned around to see an orange that had cloves sticking out of it to make it festive, laying on the floor. She looked up and saw her boss’ face that was clearly saying she’d stepped over the line. They allowed a certain amount of joking around, but there was a line you just didn’t cross.

“I think we should call it a night, Mister President,” Charlie said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Everyone still has to be here in the morning.”

“Very true,” Sam said. Charlie was clearly upset with his staff and he didn't want to further the issue by saying anything. “Thank you all again.”

~*~*~

Almost everyone had gone, and only Sam, Charlie, and Josh were left in the room together. Ainsley, Donna, and Zoey had gone off to talk about something out of earshot of the men.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Josh said. “It was funny, but…” he trailed off shaking his head. “I think you might be in trouble.”

“You’ve got that right,” Charlie said. “It’s a mess I’m going to have to clean up.”

“I meant with the First Lady,” Josh replied.

“Oh, yeah…” Charlie agreed. He picked up one of the Christmas oranges that were still in a bowl beside him. “Here, you might want to take this with you as protection.”

Sam put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet, “I think you guys are overreacting, Ains will think it’s funny.”

“Ainsley your wife might think it’s funny, Ainsley the First Lady on the other hand, won’t.” Josh said. “How is it you haven’t learned this yet? It’s like political relationships 101.”

“It will be fine,” Sam defended, then thought about it a little further. “Right?”

Charlie held up the orange without a word. Sam took it and walked toward the exit of the room. “Take your wives and go home, I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight Mister President,” Josh and Charlie said together.

Sam looked down at the orange, shook his head and continued the walk to his bedroom hoping his friends were just having a laugh at his expense.

“Goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> The request:  
> 1\. A first lady ROYALLY PISSED OFF at the president (it can be any president/first lady you want: Bartlet/Abbey, Santos/Helen, or Seaborn/OC).
> 
> 2\. someone throwing a Christmas orange at someone else
> 
> 3\. a reference to or the appearance of a t-shirt that says "I'm with stupid"
> 
> I DON'T want a sad ending
> 
> Characters I want: Josh and Sam and anyone else you see fit.
> 
> Character I don't want: Ummmm. IDK. Mandy?


End file.
